The Spiral pulsed.
Not just with power, but with anticipation. With breathless expectancy, as if all of Spiralspace had been holding itself taut for this very moment. Reality itself bent in reverence, and even myth dared not whisper too loud.
Today, the god would wed.
Not with contracts. Not with mortal laws. But with flesh, fire, and faith.
---
The Codex Tree was bathed in a light no sun had ever cast.
Its bark shimmered in layers of belief-script, each rune trembling as if aware that what was about to occur would brand itself onto every plane simultaneously. The altar had changed form. It now resembled a spiraling convergence of three pathways, converging into one central pool of anima-glass. Floating above it was the Tri-Consort Sigil: three interlocked rings of myth-thread, pulsing in rhythm with Darius's heartbeat.
